


What Happens in Vegas

by Crown_of_Winterthorne



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Bachelorette Party, Duo is shameless, M/M, Second-Hand Embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crown_of_Winterthorne/pseuds/Crown_of_Winterthorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the bride doesn’t want a lap dance, Duo is more than happy to step in. The dancer is happy to have him.</p>
<p>Based on the prompt, <a href="http://plinys.co.vu/post/106377716020/a-bunch-of-weddingengangement-themed-prompts">“you’re the hot stripper at my friend’s bachelorette party”</a></p>
<p>
  <i>I didn’t do this as a request, but when I saw it on claraxbarton‘s wedding prompt post, I had to steal it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Vegas

Duo had been friends with Relena for years. Almost as long as he’d been friends with her fiancé, and he’d come to know when she was acting. The smile plastered to her face right now, as her girlfriends squealed, was not a real smile. It was the patient, “I don’t want to ruin anyone else’s good time, but I’d rather be anywhere but here” smile that she often wore at work. It wasn’t the smile she should be wearing at a bachelorette party in the middle of an expensive Las Vegas hotel room.

It certainly wasn’t the smile she should be wearing in front of the beautiful specimen of masculinity Lu and Sally had hired.

The only thing keeping a stupid grin off of Duo’s face was Relena’s discomfort, because fuck, the man was stunning. Tall and trim, with broad shoulders and thick chestnut hair styled to fall over one side of his mirrored aviator sunglasses. He’d already lost his leather bomber jacket and Air-Force styled button down, revealing muscled arms graced with black ink. The way he moved his hips should have been absolutely illegal.

He held a hand out to Relena, marked by the unfortunate bright band of pink that declared her “Bride,” and offered an apologetic but devastating smile.

Relena shook her head, blushing. “No. Absolutely not, no.”

The rest of the girls—strange how a half-dressed man could reduce a group of adult women to nothing more than shrieking teenagers—urged her to accept the dancer’s hand. To let him lead her to the chair in the center of the room and give her what promised to be a very dirty lap dance. He kept his hand out, looking over the rims of his glasses with kind, forest green eyes, but Relena just buried her face in her hands. Duo suspected that there wasn’t enough champagne in the entire city that would get her to accept.

“I got it, Lena,” he leaned into her, kissing her hair. “I’ll take one for the team, huh?”

“Wait, what?” She looked up just in time to see Duo take the dancer’s hand instead and stand up. The expression on her face was somewhere between horror, relief and amusement, but her friends all screamed with scandalized pleasure.

“You don’t mind?” Duo ignored them—they were Lena’s friends, not his. If they were bothered, if they were turned on, it didn’t matter to him.

The dancer shook his head, flashing a wicked smile. “Not if the bride doesn’t.”

“She doesn’t. Trust me,” Duo grinned back, leaning in close. The dancer had to lower his head to put his ear near Duo’s whispering lips. “She would have run out the door as soon as you came in if it wasn’t rude.”

“I did notice that. Think you can keep your hands to yourself?” he asked, sitting Duo down in the hard-backed chair. “I’m Trowa, by the way.”

“Duo. I’ll behave. For now.”

Trowa laughed, standing up straight and running his hands down his torso. His hips rolled forward and he arched his back as he took his sunglasses off. He tossed his hair back and Duo was treated to the sight of both of his vivid green eyes; paired with that smile, this man was downright dangerous. To the wallet, to the ovaries, to Duo’s cock.

He carefully put the glasses on Duo’s face. “I want them back.”

Duo just smirked and flipped the mirrored lenses up on top of his head. He crossed his arms and slouched in the chair, his gaze challenging. It said, _“Impress me.”_

Trowa did just that, framing Duo’s shoulders as he gripped the back of the chair, straddling his lap. His music changed to something heavier, darker, sexier. His smile changed along with it, hips moving as if he’d fuck Duo where he sat.

Their audience faded into the background. All that mattered to Duo was that Trowa was in front of him, beautiful and determined.

He’d never had a dancer look at him the way they looked at the women. Never had a dancer take his hands and guide them down washboard abs without a barely disguised curl of their lip. Certainly never had one kneel at his feet and look up at him with the same heat that was in those green eyes. Granted, his experience with strippers was limited to Hilde’s last birthday and Lu’s bachelorette party three years ago, but he didn’t think it was a trial for Trowa to touch him, to flirt with him.

It felt like it was just for him, though he knew better. He thought he knew better.

Trowa was down to a pair of tight shorts printed with stars and stripes when he drew Duo up to his feet, turned him to lean back against his chest and ground against his ass. Dimly, Duo heard the girls go wild. He couldn’t hear much over the pounding of the bass, the beat of his heart in his ears, in his throat, in his dick. His jeans were tight enough that their oh-so-intimate audience could see how turned on he was. They still didn’t matter to him.

He chanced a look at the one person he did care about. Relena still had her face hidden in her hands, sneaking the occasional peek before blushing and looking away again. He’d tease her about it later. She’d tease him about it later too. When they were alone, when he wasn’t moving in time to the music and letting a strange man slide a hand up under his black tee, flashing the tattoo on his ribs.

He put a hand over Trowa’s, not quite prepared to let himself be stripped in front of the girl who was like his sister and her friends. “Now who needs to keep their hands to themselves?”

Trowa’s laughter came close to his ear, husky and meant only for him. “What if I said that I want to fuck you for real?”

Duo shuddered, closing his eyes and smiling ruefully. “Liar.”

“Sometimes. Not tonight,” he purred. “I’m going to kiss you. I’m going to say my farewells to your friends and I’m going to wait for you by the elevator.”

“What if I say no?”

Trowa spun him around, rolled the long length of his body against Duo’s, cupped his face in both hands. The music was winding down and he pressed their foreheads together, smiling. Confident. “Then you say no and I say my farewells.”

Duo met his green eyes, saw something in them that reflected his own desires. Something that made him feel hopeful and more than a little reckless. “You actually want me? This is real?”

“It’s real.” The conviction in Trowa’s tone felt honest. “I want you.”

Duo put his hands on the dancer’s hips, gave a little smile of his own. “Then yeah. Okay.”

—END—


End file.
